A ruddy lookin' character
Standin' tall at the high
"Silver Moon" bar, one hand
On a cold longneck, the other
In pocket of faded jeans,
Just arrived in a shiny black pickup
With a gunrack a showin', beginning
Rain a fallin' and crops a growin'
Looking around the dim lighted room
With the eyes of a hawk
Challengin' the painted ladies
For a dance,
Calfskin boots needin' some movin'
Two-steppin' to the Western Fiddle
Into the smokey early morn,
Talkin' now about a little
Gravy, jam, and biscuits for breakfast,
And another cold longneck one
For the road with windows a foggin' up,
In pickup truck.